The Girl.

Broken glass crunched beneath her bare feet as an empty chip packet floated and flitted in the hot wind across her path. An icy slice of air rushed at the girl as the automatic doors beyond her zipped open. She entered; the constant sound of beeping of check outs, the click clacking of trolleys over polished tiles, and a monotonous voice asking for a price checks over a booming PA system, began to sound like a mismatched symphony to the girl. She closed her eyes; grinning slightly as if she was witnessing an orchestra, devouring every note and tone.

She snapped open her eyes, an elderly woman had knocked her. The woman continued to hobble along, hunched over a trolley full of tin cans, muttering something about riff raff.

It seemed that her feet had control. The muscles in her calves were tense and tight but still she kept on walking. As the bare soles of her feet slapped lightly on gleaming white tiles the girl was carried down an isle. A young couple were coming toward her. The boy had a suspicious sparkle in his eye as he gently tapped his girlfriend on the backside, with a slight grin up turning the corners of her lips; she slapped his hand away cheekily, in an attempt to seem offended.

The girl stared at the goods on the shelves as she passed, it all began to blur and she began to sway. It was an effort to take back control and she demanded that her feet stop moving. The girl stiffened with the shriek of a small child. Looking up, a blonde headed boy with amazing Caribbean shore coloured eyes, streaming with tears as his snooty looking mother bent over him forcibly wiping some sort of grime from his chubby cheek with a licked finger. The mother glanced up and caught her staring, scowling she looked the girl up and down, then grabbed the wrist of her little boy retching him away as if the girl were about to offer him a poisonous lollypop.

A smell swelled around her like a wave claiming a sandcastle, filling her nostrils with a lustrous sweet scent. And once again her feet took charge, carrying the girl towards the end of the isle. The aisle stretched before her and began to slide out into the distance. The girl’s mind raced and her heart pounded as she tried to quicken each step. She blinked, it felt like a lifetime before her eyes opened, she was confused to see that she’d reached the end of the isle and the source of the indistinguishable aroma.

The girl’s eyes feasted upon almost animated colours, fat blood-red plums, soft sweet peaches pink and fuzzy, swollen golden mangoes. And then there were the grapes; small, plump and about to burst with juices. She glanced around. All was silent. There was nobody to be seen. The girl took a step closer and plucked a grape; it was firm and cool. Again she looked around.

Alone.

She closed her eyes as she put the grape into her mouth, she bit into it; there was a pop like explosion of sugary pleasure, the melting flesh warmed in her mouth as she swallowed.

Opening her eyes, it was as if lightning had struck through the heart. A crowd had gathered staring at her with anger and hatred etched into each of their brows.

Like a small kitten cornered, her wide eyes darted back and forth, fear filled her eyes and confusion her mind.

The girl ran.

Pushing past a man in a wheel chair, his glare burnt the girl like wild-fire. She dashed as fast as her pained legs would carry her. With the automatic doors ahead, triumphantly the girl forced halt upon herself.

As she took a step closer the doors zipped open with a buzz.

Willing herself not to look back; the girl disappeared through those doors and into the hot sun.

~~~~~~~~~~

I wrote this years ago and have loved it ever since. I have written many short bits and peices over the years and some stick with me and some are just for wasting time. This little chunk of words is very close to me for some unknown reason and occasionally over the years I have spent hours digging through all my things trying to find the measly two sheets of paper it is written on.

For some reason I have not shared this piece with many simply because it is so close to me. But I have decided that I will publish it here for all to read, because I would hate the day I decided to go searching only to never find it and only have memories of bits and pieces and never get it right ever again.

Yager

Married with 5 children should say it all; The insides of my head and heart are splattered all over this blog! This isn't your typical mummy blog. Sometimes I say too much, sometimes not enough. The cake on my face says it all. I think honesty is the best quality someone can have. I think happiness is the best choice someone can make.
email me: yagerbabies@gmail.com